


Together at Last - Draco Malfoy x Reader

by echappe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brother/Sister - Freeform, Comfort, F/M, Incest, Mild Angst, Mild Smut, Sibling Incest, malfoy manner - Freeform, stressful situations bring people together, y/n malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29150823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echappe/pseuds/echappe
Summary: Draco and Y/n Malfoy finally find an escape from the chaos of war.WARNINGS: consensual brother/sister incest, mild smut
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco/Sister reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Together at Last - Draco Malfoy x Reader

**Author's Note:**

> PLOT UNRELATED TO “Forbidden Flames - Draco x Daughter Reader”.
> 
> Another mild disappointment, but that’s okay- I have a new Tom Felton x Sister Reader oneshot in the works which I expect will be better than this one : ) hope you enjoy anyway

Overwhelmed was the only word that could be used to describe Draco Malfoy's state of being. Absolutely overwhelmed.

It had been many moons since Voldemort had overtaken the Malfoy Manor, and everyday since, his power grew stronger. Yet it was not the strength of the Dark Lord itself that scared Draco, it was everything else that came with it. 

He noticed that as each day passed, the Deatheaters would get a little more reckless, a little louder, a little bolder. 

Having at first been confined to the first floor of the Manor, the inhabitants of the house were at least somewhat respectful- certainly not in the eyes of Lucius, but Draco appreciated getting to maintain his private quarters and for that, deemed their presence durable. 

That was until Lucius lost his position as Voldemort's right hand. Having failed time and time again at contributing progress to the war effort, being bested by a child, and disappointing the expectations of the cult- the Malfoy patriarch was losing power rapidly. He had been cast aside so fast and hard the man didn't care enough to even look presentable, which had arguable always been at the top of Lucius's priority list. The young, vile, reckless deatheaters watched as the head of the household was dethroned, and took it upon themselves to punish him further.

Seeing as Lucius was a fairly easy man to get to, the young adults didn't have to do much to showcase their power over him. It started with wondering to areas that had been deemed off-limits, then valuable items would go missing, this continued until not a soul in the house cared for the rules; they stole, destroyed, and invaded. Their behavior (his lack of control) drove Lucius absolutely mad, and it did not go unnoticed that every day that Voldemort got stronger- Lucius got weaker.

The Manor belonged to the Malfoy's only in name.

There was but one person whose annoyance with the invasion could compete with that of the head of the household: Draco. He carried the constant burden of knowing everyone from his teacher to peers to strangers on the street, despised him. They held a prejudice towards Draco, and he had to live with knowing trying to prove his innocence- trying to ask for help- was suicide. He could only handle the hateful glares and words when he had somewhere to escape to. 

Draco didn't want to hurt people, he didn't want to assist Voldemort in his plans- the only thing he desired was approval. Whether it was approval from his parents, the Dark Lord, or his peers- he did not know; but Draco needed to know he wasn't helping a genocidal maniac for nothing. As long as he knew he was helping someone, that one person in the world would thank him for his service, Draco could live with his dark deeds. 

Until the Manor was overtaken by deatheaters, the boy found his position suitable. He completed his tasks without question, for it didn't matter what the other students knew or how they viewed him, he could always come home to a place of peace and certainty, full of people who loved him. Harry could say whatever shit came to his mind in attempts to hurt Draco, but the blonde knew his enemy had nobody waiting for him at home, no warm bed to relax in after a long day, no servants to cater to his every need, and no parents who could remind him of his worth. Draco appreciated all of those luxuries for the many years he had them, especially after being initiated. 

When days grew long and tiring, when he felt as though his faith and work were in vain, and when he knew most that not only were his efforts going unnoticed but earning him hate, Draco could return to his home of order which would always remind him of his privilege and superiority. 

The day Voldemort arrived at the Malfoy Manor was the day Draco's resolve began to crumble. When the deatheaters invaded, there were no longer safe spaces, there was no privacy or comfort or escape for Draco. He carried the burden of knowing his mudblood peers hated him and continued to be weighed down by the fact that he was in a constant cycle of disappointing his superiors at home. He was constantly being assigned a knew and more challenging task than the last, and regardless of whether or not he met the expectations set by the Dark Lord, he was always disappointing somebody.

No amount of work would ever be enough to prove himself truly to the Voldemort's followers, and no amount of evidence would ever prove his innocence to the rest. Even in short times of peace, when he had no duties and wasn't forced to return to the judgement of Hogwarts, there would always be something to remind Draco that he was nothing but a servant; he owned nothing, he earned nothing, and he deserved nothing. 

When he tried to sleep at night, there were sounds of chaos emitted by the reckless deatheaters nightly, likely fighting or drinking or both. Bottles smashing and maniacal laughter never left his ears, not on weekends, not on holidays, not on breaks. No rest for the wicked, they said. When he left his room, there were always eyes watching him, though he never really knew who they belonged to. Draco no longer ate with his family or anyone else for that matter, the lack of manners and civility presented by the cult members almost made his restraint snap on one too many occasions.

Lucius was more than preoccupied with trying to prove himself to his Lord, not caring to notice his son's efforts or pain; and Narcissa spent her days pretending everything was okay. That's what she told Draco when he went to complain, something that would not be tolerated in the Malfoy Manor. It was for that reason that the boy thought he would finally lose his mind. The constant noise and general havoc that filled the house was overwhelming; the absence of his parents and friends was overwhelming; the lack of sleep, order, and escape was overwhelming. 

At school, Draco was forced to pretend he didn't care that he was despised by all, that he had been wrongfully deemed "evil" without any way to prove otherwise. At home, Draco was forced to pretend he didn't mind the presence of the unwelcome in his house, he had to pretend he there was nothing he loved more than to serve the Dark Lord, and he knew to never admit otherwise. There was not a soul in the universe he could vent to, not even a journal, for who knew how far the hands of Voldemort could reach? How was Draco to know that he could not read his mind, that he could not feel his pain? Forced to suffer in isolation, the boy thought he would finally lose any idea of who he truly was.

That was until he found the solution to all his problems. Exhausted from trying and failing to find rest, the boy found Y/n standing on the balcony on the only untouched wing of the house, the only space that had not been violated or dismantled as he wondered in search of peace.

Draco had felt it had been ages since he had last seen his sister, she seemed nearly like stranger to him. It was not as though Y/n had been absent physically from the manor, only that neither of the teens had any time for each other. 

Y/n was a perfect contrast to the rest of the house: calm, still, elegant. No longer was Draco trapped in the nightmare that bore his home, he felt he had entered some kind of ethereal dream. The young Slytherin couldn't bring himself to disrupt the scene before him, the peaceful expression on Y/n's face said everything her brother needed to know: she was experiencing the first moments of stillness she had in years. Rare was it to find a corner of the world that housed growth while the Dark Lord ruled, and even rarer was it to find the time to visit. 

Draco had never seen the wing of the house, or at least couldn't recall any memorable moments spent in it. No- as a child, it looked just the same as all the other halls in the massive chateau. But that day, that moment, there was no other place the boy would rather be. 

Y/n's silk gown flowed just past her knees, he knows its pink- but the darkness makes the fabric appear gray. How poetic, Draco thinks. She's finally let her hair down, a rare occurrence those days. Draco's always liked it down. She wore no jewelry, no makeup, no coat despite the cold, no shoes, nothing to rep her family name or riches or wealth; nothing to declare place in a hierarchy or superiority or hide flaws in attempts to maintain the exhausting facade of constant, unwavering beauty. Draco wonders if he has ever seen his sister like this- not just openly overwhelmed, but perfectly raw. He wonders if he's ever seen anyone in such a vulnerable state.

The moonlight kissed every bit of her soft skin, and tried to breach the fabric when it could not. Draco had yet to notice the darkness of the hall in front of him, he could see still the outline of the doors and decor, but nightfall had been far quicker than he had expected and the colors of the house dimmed considerably. Y/n presence at the edge of the darkness morphed into a clear depiction of the light at the end of the tunnel.

That was a when Draco started to feel the pull. His legs moved entirely without his permission as he gravitated toward the angel at the end of the hall. The darkness fled Draco's vision as he approached the balcony. 

Much to his surprise, Y/n was not startled nor scared by his presence. Had she known he had been there all along along? Neither could answer the question that flew through both of their minds. 

He needed to be next to her, to be with her. Draco needed to see the only person in the world who knew the truth- she knew who he was, what they were, Y/n knew of Draco's innocence and he knew she'd felt the burn of stares in her back, the disappointment of peers and superiors. How could he forget? Y/n's out to prove her own innocence just as much as he is his. Y/n knew the reality of their situation, she had suffered and hurt and given and given and given. She'd been hated and betrayed and knew all the pain Draco did. He didn't need words, he didn't need thoughts. Just by the look in her eye and the age that had taken her once bright features, he knew he was not alone in the world. 

Draco's fingers dragged along Y/n's cheekbones and jaw, he's moving involuntary- he doesn't believe she's really there. What had happened to her? She was deeper and darker and more complex but still maintained the comforting aura she had always had. This wasn't right, was it? Draco had always thought his sister would grow up a copy of her mother just like her mother before her and her mother before her. She was supposed to harden and submit and get others to do the same- yet, Y/n remained soft. Stronger, maybe, but just as kind. Just as loving. Just as beautiful.

There were about a million question Draco wanted to ask: where has the time gone? Why haven't we spoken? How could I have forgotten about you? How am I only just now realizing that I am in love with you? 

No, that's ridiculous. He hadn't seen his sister in months, they hadn't even spoken yet! That was just stress talking. The logical part of Draco's brain told him he was only hallucinating, only dreaming. Fortunately, years of mind breaking work had diminished his inner voice of logic to a mere whisper. 

It was finally hearing Y/n's voice- finally getting to see her move in a way that wasn't mechanically rehearsed- that broke Draco completely.  
"Draco," Her voice mimicked her skin: gentle, warm, comforting. When had hearing his name made Draco so weak? "I've missed you." Not an ounce of hate or false kindness adorned her words. She loved him. She welcomed him.

The older Malfoy couldn't remember the last time he had been addressed endearingly; he couldn't remember the last time he had been held, kissed, or touched. Needless to say, Y/n's skin was as intoxicating as her voice.  
Y/n placed her hand over the one Draco held to her cheek. She blushed at the affection, rare was it that a Malfoy express genuine emotion. The girl repaid her brother's generosity with her own by smiling shyly up at the boy before her, noticing he had changed a considerable amount as well. 

Draco had gained quite a bit of height since Y/n had last cared to noticed, his features were more defined as well.  
It was clear her brother was no longer a child, body and mind. His complexion was clearer than ever and he presented a jawline and cheekbones more prominent than they had ever been. Dressed in a fine suit, just like his father, Draco looked every bit like the collected, confident young man he was expected to be. Beneath that typical Malfoy facade, Y/n could see Draco was just as damaged as herself. Pain and all, his sister thought Draco must have been one of the most attractive men she'd ever witnessed in all her life. 

Y/n noted the adoration in his eyes that embarrassingly made her heart race. She averted her gaze as though Draco could feel the thump of her heart against her chest, as though he could hear the wildly inappropriate thoughts that had raced through her head. 

He could. And he did. 

Whatever feeling this was that possessed the young prefect, he knew his sister felt too. 

She felt it too.

With that final thought, Draco finally gave in to his desires. He grabbed his sister by the waist and pulled her body flush against his own. Keeping his palm cupping her cheek, Draco finally let their lips meet. Y/n, despite her shock, made no move to stop him. He wasn't rough or demanding- in fact, the boy wasn't sure if he had it in him to treat such a gentle creature with his typical behavior. A wave of relief and excitement washed over both of their bodies. Neither of the twins could explain in the slightest their sudden need to be near one another, to be in one another- but, for the first time in forever, they didn't need to.

In that abandoned hall in the only uninfected wing of the house, there was no one to tell them what to do. There were no expectations to be met and no cover-up to maintain. There were no eyes to watch their every move and no ears to monitor their words. There was no one to be hurt and no one to please. No one to hate or be hated by,

It was perfect.

After years of acting, pretending, hiding, fighting, and struggling- Draco and Y/n had finally found their escape. 

After all, was it truly wrong if no one was there to judge?

Not that either of the siblings bothered with this question, why would they? They had no home but each other. 

Draco meant to move slower and gentler than he did, but Y/n was openly as desperate as her brother. Her hands tugged at his hair as her tongue begged for his. The elder Malfoy was not one to deprive his sister of her needs, so he happily obliged. Caging her against the wall, the twins groped and kissed and licked each other until they absolutely could not take it anymore.

Both were heaving by the time they separated. Draco felt immediately regretful. He wanted to apologize a hundred times for kissing her without permission, knowing it was unlikely Y/n had ever done such a thing with anyone. He wanted to ask a hundred more if she were ready to continue, but the doe eyed look at on her face told him everything he needed to know.

The moment Draco's lips found Y/n's again- she was tugging on his belt.  
"We should-" The boy started, both terrified and exhilarated by the idea of being caught.  
"Come on." Y/n interrupted, gleefully pulling her brother into the nearest room to continue their fun.

Draco went to remove his shirt and found his sister was far quicker at undressing than himself. Already utterly bare by the time he was rid of his shirt, Draco stared in wonder at Y/n's nude body. How could she possibly have done that so fast? What was she wearing before then? A sweatshirt? A nightgown? Draco can't recall for the life of himself. The thought was immediately dismissed when she whined for him.

"Coming, love." The boy murmured as he undressed himself and climbed over her on the bed. Draco took a moment to admire his sister.

How could he have gone so long without her? Why was he stupid enough to believe he was alone, when he had been accompanied by another from the moment he entered the world? 

Draco smiled for the first time in many moons, he was not alone anymore.  
He knew the same thought passed through his sister's head when their eyes meet. This means so much more to them than they had realized.

And while he would openly admit that her bare thighs and plump breasts were a sight to drool over, what Draco appreciated most of all was the fact that Y/n trusted him enough to expose herself so obviously. She let him see her overwhelmed, broken, damaged self. She continued to put effort into comforting her scarred brother despite her own hurt. She continued to be kind and gentle, despite her every reason not to be. Then, as he gazed upon her soft figure in the dim light, Draco knew she was the first person he had every truly known. The first person who had revealed themselves body, mind, and soul- possibly for the first time in hundreds of generations of Malfoy lies and false exteriors. She was certainly the first and only person who knew him.

Draco and Y/n took a moment to simply admire one another, to accept that they were now in this for life. 

The blonde boy dipped down to kiss his sister once more, but stopped a moment before catching her lips.

Are you sure you want to do this? Do you trust me to bring us through this war together? Through this life together? You do not regret revealing yourself to me?  
Draco thought, but he knew somehow Y/n could understand him.

She smiled softly at her ever insecure brother before closing the small gap between them with a gentle kiss. Draco and Y/n couldn't help but smile into the next one, and the next one after that. 

Oh how good it felt to find an escape, to be home once more.


End file.
